


dreams, they're for those who sleep

by longboyzone



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longboyzone/pseuds/longboyzone
Summary: Like most nights, Dimitri can't sleep.Seeking solace from his thoughts, he ventures from his room to Garreg Mach Monastery's pond, and runs into someone quite unexpected.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 18
Kudos: 150





	dreams, they're for those who sleep

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! this is the first fic ive written literally ever!! so pls be nice :) the titles from one of my fav songs ever, bread's "make it with you"
> 
> this evolved from a sort of character study on dimi's mental health issues pre time skip into something...more. i cannot control the dimiclaude brain worms, and thus this was born.
> 
> a bit of a warning for the beginning: description of a panic attack/hallucinations
> 
> fyi this takes place right before the edelgard flame emperor reveal so.... im sorry

Dimitri couldn’t sleep.

Far from unfamiliar, yet a nuisance all the same. He laid back on the twin mattress, arms rigid to his sides, and stared blankly up at the ceiling. His quilted blanket had long been forgotten, and simply sat on the floor in a pool of Faerghan blue fabric. His body felt too warm, yet he felt chills ripple along his veins at the same time.

A feeling no longer foreign, he almost welcomed it with open arms. Dimitri could not say that he still felt the same fear that he once had when he saw the shadows that twisted and spiraled along blank walls and out of the corners of his eyes. He’d slowly been making acquaintance with the ghosts that taunted him since he was thirteen, and their shrieking and moaning slowly melted into a familiar background hum instead of the thunderous horror that once shook him into a trembling mess. In the dying, lonesome hours of night, he could almost say that the lithe, slithering ghostly figures were somewhat of company for him. Not good company, far from it, but company nonetheless.

He often stayed frozen like this, arms and legs locked together in rigid lines, and simply stared until the kind light of morning slowly dripped from his window. Any bystander would say he looked like a corpse, lying still and cold in his own coffin. Dimitri supposed he felt that way. After all, when the apparitions of his long dead father and the other dead loved ones he knew clawed relentlessly at his face and screamed into his ears for revenge, he felt more accompanied with death than life.

To Dimitri, terror, trauma, and throbbing headaches became commonplace at nights in Garreg Mach Monastery. Despite the absolute horror of it all, his sleepless nights slowly melted and molded into an unavoidable habit in his daily routine.

But this particular night was somewhat of an anomaly. Dimitri found himself shaking for the first time in several months. It was one of the first few nights of the Pegasus Moon, and the start of the night had indicated nothing abnormal. If anything, it was just more of the same old thing. He had changed into his nightclothes, blew out the lonesome candle on his desk, crawled into bed, and laid still, awaiting the blossoming hours of nightfall. He’d only felt his jaw twitch slightly at the anticipated appearance of the ghosts, and only blinked demurely as the contorted ghostly visages of his deceased family danced across the ceiling. But as the night faded into more silence, Dimitri felt an overwhelming dread crawl up his throat. This time, his ghosts seemed _knowing_. Like they had some notion that he’d somehow let float over his head. They were _mocking_ him. _Enticing_ him. Dimitri felt his fingers twist his sheets. His chest tighten, his head swirl.

A new sort of panic seeped into his skin. A panic he hadn’t felt in years. The sort of panic he’d shut away, buried upon layers and layers of practiced princely politeness and meekly fulfilled expectations. Dimitri felt his head begin to tighten intensely, and he slammed his eyes shut in an attempt to ignore the ghosts.

It didn’t work. It never really did when it got like this.

They only cried out louder in response, their clawed hands reaching and pulling at his hair, his arms, his legs, his face. Their hands slithered to his lungs and throat and squeezed with all of their anguished might, and, _Goddess_ , Dimitri couldn’t breathe.

He bolted upright and pressed his feet to the cool, wooden floor. Despite the chilled air of Garreg Mach’s winter seeping into his room, Dimitri’s entire body felt intensely, unnaturally flushed. Beads of sweat started to meander past his hairline and down the curves and valleys of his face. He couldn’t even help the anguished whine that slid up his choked throat and into the dead silence of his bedroom.

He suddenly stood up, and felt a horrible adrenaline rattle his bones. He had to _move_ , he had to _run_. Dimitri began pacing the small confines of his dorm room, and shuddered when his breathing only quickened. He had to get out, he had to leave.

The ghosts appeared again when he hastily opened his eyes, and he was met with the horrible gazes of the burned and bloodied faces of King Lambert and Glenn. They were laughing. They grinned in utter madness, finding some twisted humor in Dimitri’s mania.

And suddenly, like the rug had been yanked from his feet, all he could think about was Edelgard. He didn’t know why.

But the ghosts seemed to know, and this only prompted them to taunt him louder and louder. The chanting and calling for revenge began to warp and blend into the thought of Edelgard until they became synonymous, and Dimitri could no longer sit still in his coffin and bear it all night.

He ground his teeth together, and slammed his door open. If his crest had activated, the age-old wooden door would have split and been sent careening towards Sylvain’s room. Thankfully, it remained on its hinges, and Dimitri wildly made his way down the hall towards the stone stairs. He needed to do _something_. He needed to _leave_. In his panic-induced impulsiveness, Dimitri broke his routine and subconsciously prayed the ghosts would remain in his room as he made his way towards the monastery’s pond.

-

Dimitri never left his room past curfew. It was forbidden, after all, and he was not known for being on the receiving end of any form of scolding from Seteth or the professor.

Dimitri supposed, and perhaps it was wishful thinking, that he would evade any punishment were he caught. In his defense, this was an abnormal situation. His shoe-less feet traced tiny patterns into the pond’s surface, and Dimitri watched the little ripples of water dance wildly for a moment, then fade away into a calm stillness. His breathing had long since evened out, his skin no longer felt blazingly hot, and he finally found some semblance of control.

He’s had episodes like this before. Often times, he’d been the sole witness to his panic, and had been forced to learn how to get through it all on his lonesome. He found it best to handle it like battle; he’d had to devise key strategies to overcome this overwhelming enemy.

In this moment, he was practicing his favored tactic of keeping his focus solely on his environment. Like the watchful eye of a decorated archer, he had scanned his surroundings, and picked up on any stimulus that piqued any of his senses. He’d felt his lungs slowly escape from constriction when he closed his eyes and concentrated solely on the soft whistling of the winter wind in his ears. He’d felt his shoulders relax when he toed the cold pond water and felt the delicate way in which the still water hugged and warped around his foot’s light taps. He had felt his jaw loosen when he smelled the familiar grassy scent of the pond, a gentle, earthy reminder of the pond’s constant, present company.

And so Dimitri grounded himself in the moment, dug his roots into the wooden planks of the pond’s dock, and finally surrendered to the scenery, rather than to himself.

Admittedly, it wasn’t enough to completely silence the ghosts, as it never really was.

They were still there, albeit so incredibly far back into the darkest recesses of Dimitri’s consciousness that he paid them no mind. They held no candle to the absolute, beautiful stillness of the pond, and so they retreated reluctantly, at least for the moment. That small victory was something Dimitri was thankful for, even if it was a victory he’d felt shame in admitting.

Dimitri opened his eyes again, slowly, and looked out onto the pond. The slight jostle of a fish leaping up out of the water grabbed his attention, and he silently stared as the fish fell back and awoke a small splash from the once still surface of water. Dimitri’s lips quirked upwards in an insignificant smile as he was amused by the inherent playfulness of nature. He felt childish in his simple, stupid pleasure, but the calm smile remained on his face just the same.

He was tugged out of his adolescent delight by the slight shuffle of boots on cobblestone not far behind him. Feeling tense once again, Dimitri swung his head around to find the source of the blatant intrusion on his serene stupor.

Standing at the top of the stairs leading to the dining hall was none other than Claude von Riegan.

“Dimitri?”

Claude’s face was pulled into a twist of genuine concern, a look Dimitri has never seen before. He looked surprised, confused, and almost vulnerable.

“Claude,” Dimitri echoed back.

The air around them hung in a pregnant lull. Claude was the last person Dimitri would have expected to see. He’d thought he would be locking eyes with a guard, a monk, or even the professor, surely not the concerned gaze of one Claude von Riegan. Confusion peppered both of their faces.

“What are you doing here?” Claude was the first to ask.

“I…” Dimitri paused. Could he really admit to Claude such a flawed weakness? A truly devastating, almost terrifying part of himself?

“And in your nightclothes, no less,” Claude added with a small, hesitant scoff, following Dimitri’s lapse.

Dimitri glanced down in embarrassment, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. Objectively, he did look a bit ridiculous, in his soft, formless tunic, untied at the collar, and in his loose-fitting trousers. He didn’t even have his boots on, as he’d neglected to think of such trivialities in his fervent escape from the constricting confines of his room.

“Just needed some... fresh air,” Dimitri half-lied. He could not possibly open up to Claude about this, about this intense internal ordeal. Especially when he looked as out of place as he did in nothing but his sleep clothes. While he’d hoped the curt response would sway the archer in front of him, Claude only looked more concerned.

“Dimitri,” he sighed as he took wary steps towards the dock, towards Dimitri in his once serene little bubble.

“And what are you doing here?” Dimitri choked out as he felt the familiar chill of panic crawl up his spine. He met Claude’s eyes firmly and attempted to build an even higher wall between them. “Scheming, I presume?”

Claude stopped in his tracks, and casted a sidelong glance towards the stables. “No,” he hid his caution with a half-hearted laugh. It left his lips and dropped to the floor just as fast as it came. “I was in the library. You know, studying and all that. I was just coming back now.” Claude shifted uncomfortably as his eyes returned to Dimitri.

Dimitri found no teasing, no good-humor, no friendly flair in Claude’s voice. He’d never heard the boy sound so solemn. Perhaps, just perhaps, a small voice in Dimitri murmured, he was being kept from sleep by something too.

“Oh,” Dimitri resigned. He took in Claude’s appearance. His wild locks of hair looked mussed and unsettled, as if a nervous hand had been firmly combing through them many a time. He was still wearing his full academy uniform, jacket and all, and his body looked stiff, longing for the comfort of lounge wear. Claude shifted on his hip and stared at Dimitri in return. Even in the dark of the night, Dimitri could see the honeyed green of Claude’s eyes, and, to his surprise, the newfound appearance of dark circles sketched purple under his eyes. He looked so, so _tired_.

“Are you okay, Claude?” The question left his lips before he properly calculated it. Blame his straightforwardness, his sleep deprivation, or something else entirely, but Dimitri had begun to feel his long standing walls begin to crumble at the sight of Claude looking just as disheveled and broken as Dimitri had felt earlier.

The archer seemed to prepare an answer, likely witty and dismissive, but sighed instead. He looked longingly at the stone beneath his feet, heaved in a deep breath, and glanced back upwards at Dimitri’s concerned gaze. He warily moved back again towards the dock. This time, Dimitri let him.

“I can’t sleep,” Claude admitted with reluctance and carefully sat down next to Dimitri at the edge of the dock. He crossed his legs and sat his tired chin on his knees, timidly searching Dimitri’s face beneath his dark lashes.

Dimitri felt his breath catch in the sudden tightness of his throat. Not due to panic, but due to… something else. Nerves? Fear? His ghosts were long tucked away at the moment, what else would he have to be afraid of?

Claude resumed, turning his eyes to look out onto the pond. “I know we’re not, like, super good friends or anything like that, but,” Claude shifted a bit, his usual mask of nonchalance starting to slip. Dimitri both wondered about and feared what lay beneath it. “I feel like I can trust you with this.”

Dimitri awaited Claude’s admittance with bated breath. It was true, what Claude was saying. They were not the best of friends, especially as house lines limited their interactions, especially in comparison to some of Dimitri’s closer friends. But Dimitri was not blind to the undercurrent of a bond that had slowly but surely manifested between them since their initial introduction in the beginning of the year. Dimitri could fondly call upon moments shared between the two in which a genuine, true foundation for a lifelong friendship had been formed. Little moments like this, in which they communicated as people, rather than as the heir prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the future duke of House Riegan, leader of the Leicester Alliance.

“I can’t sleep,” Claude repeated, “because I can’t stop thinking. About all of this. All of the crazy, dangerous things happening around us. I… I feel like something’s coming, something bad,” Claude closed his eyes in defeat.

The thought of Edelgard flickered dimly in the back of Dimitri’s mind.

“I don’t want it to. I mean, I knew things would have to change once we graduated, I get that, I really do. But I think this change’ll hit me a lot harder than I’d once thought it would,” Claude only looked blankly at the pond, head still lazily cradled by his knees. “I tried to get my mind off it by reading in the library like I usually do, but I can’t even focus on that.”

Dimitri stared at Claude. He’d never heard such vulnerability in Claude’s voice, such raw, untampered fear. Claude was incredibly predictable in his mannerisms: Dimitri could count on the boy’s lopsided grin and carefree air, regardless of what was hidden underneath. But this? Dimitri felt he was trespassing onto consecrated grounds, like he was somewhere only the Goddess knew existed. He realized too late that his gaping likely did nothing for Claude’s unfurling nerves.

“Or, you know, forget it, it’s stupid anyway,” Claude recoiled in on himself and desperately scrambled to put his mask back on. “Listen to me, selfishly complaining while people are in real danger out there.”

“N-No Claude, don’t say that,” Dimitri suddenly assured him. Even Claude seemed surprised as Dimitri fell out of his staring and into a whirlwind of concern. “We all have truly scary expectations and roles waiting for us in short time. It’s fine to worry about the future.” Dimitri managed a slight smile at Claude as the brunet turned away from the pond to look back into Dimitri’s eyes.

Dimitri’s throat felt constricted again. There was something lingering in Claude’s green gaze, something so powerful and alluring that Dimitri felt his guard begin to chip away even further. It made him desperately want to soothe his friend, to make him feel better about whatever was plaguing his mind. Dimitri felt his chest tighten as Claude’s eyes continued to bore into his own, and the weight of tonight’s emotions began rising on Dimitri’s tongue before his own defensive logic could keep his mouth shut.

“I, too, cannot sleep because of something similar,” Dimitri murmured, never letting his gaze falter from Claude’s own. He hoped a sort of camaraderie would aid Claude in his internal struggle, an assertion that the archer’s fear and anxiety was not in isolation. “I am… very afraid, too. I feel a sense of dread looming over me, and,” Dimitri paused, looking away. “I’m glad you feel comfortable talking to me about this. I don’t want you to feel alone.”

It was Claude’s turn to stare. Then, he cracked open a smile and let out a huff of a laugh, that seemed to be coated in delighted relief. Dimitri realized, with a novel warmth blooming in his chest, that Claude’s smile was reaching his eyes. His lovely green eyes.

“Thanks, Dima,” Claude’s smile was infectious, then faltered when he caught his slip. “Er- Dimitri,” he looked adorably sheepish, a slight coral pink beginning to paint his cheeks. “Just… Dimitri.”

Dimitri smiled in return. His body felt like it was alight with a wonderful, youthful glow, something he painstakingly hadn’t felt in quite a while. The sun of Claude’s genuine grin made Dimitri’s burdens melt off his shoulders, his ghosts retreat further away.

Dimitri could not say what exactly was happening. It’s not like they said anything revolutionary, and surely, both of their problems still lingered in the cold winter air. But it was in the way they were sat together, Claude’s knees pulled to his chest, Dimitri still in his nightclothes. It was weird and it was wonderful. He didn’t notice that Claude had shifted closer, until he was gracing Dimitri’s legs with his own.

Dimitri came to realize several incredible things, all at once.

One, Claude von Riegan trusted his feelings with Dimitri.

Two, Claude von Riegan wasn’t hiding when he was with Dimitri.

Three, Claude von Riegan was genuinely smiling _because_ of Dimitri.

And perhaps, most incredible of them all: Claude von Riegan was absolutely, devastatingly beautiful. And he _enchanted_ Dimitri.

Dimitri’s face felt hot at the sudden realization; emotions crashing onto him with the strength of an entire army. What Dimitri was feeling right now, from the blush on his face, the warmth of Claude next to him, to the way Claude’s eyes gently razed over his face, Dimitri realized he would fight an entire army to feel again, again, and again.

“Claude,” Dimitri breathed, so quiet that not even the fish in the pond dared to listen.

“Yeah?”

“You can call me that. Um, Dima, I mean.” Dimitri almost shuddered at how pathetic and horribly nervous he sounded. “I don’t mind. It’s… uh, it’s nice.”

Claude only seemed to smile even bigger. If that was possible.

“I think I will. Especially if it means I can see you blush like this again,” Claude grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

 _Oh_.

Dimitri could not help but redden furiously after that, his ears likely burning an embarrassing shade of scarlet. There it was, Claude’s typical temperament, playful, fun, and absolutely, infuriatingly, teasing. He glanced away shyly, and stared out at the pond once again. Dimitri felt like he could simply step onto the water in front of him, and dance carefree among the fishes.

The sun was beginning to awaken on the horizon, painting the sky above in the most miraculous shades of purple, pink, and orange. Dimitri felt unbridled joy erupt within himself in a similar fashion, coating him in the most splendid, gorgeous, and overwhelmingly _happy_ colors he could think of. It filled him with peace, with hope, with happiness, and perhaps, most significant to this moment, with courage.

“Claude?” Dimitri turned back to face the archer, and was met with the same beguiling green eyes that he’d had the blessing of bearing witness to. How he’d never realized their beauty until this moment, Dimitri did not know.

“Hm?” Claude only answered with a honey-sweet hum, and Dimitri fell victim to staring again.

The sun timidly peering over the horizon enhanced the inherent golden glow of Claude’s skin, and drenched the high points of his face in absolute liquid gold. Dimitri only realized how close Claude’s face actually was when he could actually look down and count every single individual sun freckle that dotted the bridge of Claude’s nose. And, because he truly couldn’t help himself: he risked a glance lower to Claude’s lips, which were slightly parted in anticipation, the soft, delicate pink of them so mind numbingly gorgeous in the morning light.

“Can I kiss you?”

The question hung in the air for a still, stagnant moment, and panic began to seep into Dimitri’s pores yet again when:

“Yeah,” Claude smiled. “Yeah, Dima, I’d love that,” his voice barely anything but a whisper.

Dimitri hesitated for a second, his nerves catching him in his fall. He realized that he’d never actually kissed anyone before. He’d thought about it, sure, but not once had anyone actually come close enough to the Prince of Faerghus in his eighteen years of life to permit such an action. And now, he finds himself but a moment away from kissing Claude von Riegan, grandson of Duke Riegan, future leader of the Leicester Alliance. He could almost feel the warning tremors of the political earthquake that this would cause.

But no mind that, Dimitri reminded himself, as Claude von Riegan, _beautiful_ Claude von Riegan, was currently leaning forward, slowly, carefully, eyelids delicately closed, his lips awaiting Dimitri’s own. And Dimitri wanted nothing more in that instance than to oblige.

So he did.

It was gentle, chaste, nervous, and proud, all at once. Nothing more than a firm press of lips upon lips, and nothing less either. It was Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd’s first kiss, and he silently prayed it wasn’t his last. _Especially_ not his last with Claude. Dimitri felt metaphorical butterflies flutter in his stomach, and he swore he heard a fish leap up in joy from the pond. Claude’s lips were so, so soft and so, so warm against his own, and Dimitri wanted to stay just like that forever and ever. His hands timidly made their way off of his lap and onto Claude’s jaw, so incredibly delicate as to not scare the archer away.

Claude only smiled in response, pulling away but an inch or two so he could properly glance back up at Dimitri. Dimitri felt the comforting heat of Claude’s hands as he laid one over top of Dimitri’s upon his face, and again as he reached the other up to affectionately pet Dimitri’s cheek. Claude’s gaze lingered lovingly in Dimitri’s own before shyly, reluctantly breaking eye contact to discern his surroundings.

“Looks like we made it to morning,” Claude softly remarked as his eyes took in the brilliant orange of the sun slightly above the horizon. “Yay us.”

Dimitri, however, paid no mind to his environment, preferring to abandon this tactic in his battle against himself for the first time that night. He could only focus on Claude’s face encompassed by his own hands. On the warmth of Claude’s rosy cheeks, the warmth of his right hand on Dimitri’s left. The way Claude’s warmth seemed to do away with the familiar chill of his own hands. Had Claude always been this warm? This lovely?

“Thank you,” Dimitri breathed. “Claude.”

He wasn’t quite sure what exactly he was thanking Claude for. For accepting the kiss? For staying with him until the comfort of morning came? For the conversation? Perhaps, just perhaps, Dimitri felt Claude’s coincidental appearance near the pond kept him safe from the familiar terror of night.

Claude gave him a lopsided grin in response.

“Yeah,” Claude let out an almost fond sigh. “F’course.” And, as Claude sobered slightly, a bit of that rare seriousness on his face appeared once again: “If you ever can’t sleep, find me. I’m only two doors down. I’ll probably be awake, too.”

At that, Claude stood up.

“See you, Dima. Oh, and don’t forget to change out of your sleep clothes. Especially since class starts in like, an hour.” Claude gestured vaguely at the sky, and Dimitri fully realized the inevitable return of morning sun, indicative of a fresh, new day. Dimitri got up, gave Claude an embarrassingly bashful smile and backed away towards the dorms.

“Yes, of course,” Dimitri raised his hand in a shy wave. “Goodbye, Claude.”

Then Claude gave him one of his signature winks, and ducked away in the direction of the bath houses. Dimitri could not help but watch him walk away.

-

As he made his way back up the stairs towards his room, Dimitri’s mind wandered to all sorts of conclusions that elicited a buzz of warmth within his chest.

One, Dimitri had a new hope for this upcoming month.

Two, Dimitri had a new hope past graduation.

Three, Dimitri had a new hope in enduring more sleepless nights.

Perhaps, most importantly, was the realization that Dimitri had a new hope in himself. A new hope in receiving and offering love, a concept that had seemed foreign to him for such a long, long time.

Dimitri had a feeling that his routine would soon change. He felt he no longer was forced to lay rigid in his designated coffin and endure the harassment of his ghosts until the morning sun drove them away.

Perhaps, and just perhaps, Dimitri could have a certain someone sit through the sleepless night with him, and hold him tight until the golden light of morning peered into his room.


End file.
